Second Chances
by Littleforest
Summary: Set Post-Season Six. "Lisbon knew that she could never force Jane to talk about his past, not when it was clearly a sore point for him for so many reasons, but she couldn't deny the fact that it would hurt her irrevocably if he chose to run from this conversation now."
1. Part One

**********Disclaimer - **The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller and CBS. Not me. Obviously.

**A/N – **Hello one and all. Firstly, this is set after the wonderful season six finale, so if you haven't seen that yet, you probably shouldn't read this, because it definitely contains spoilers. Secondly, this follows on from a one-shot I did called "Making Up For Lost Time" which was really an episode tag for 6x22. I wanted that to stand alone, which is why I'm posting this as a new story. You don't really need to read that to follow what happens in this, so don't worry too much - although you are quite welcome to check it out (find it on my profile) because it does lead quite nicely into the beginning of this. Either way, I really hope you like this one!

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**~ Second Chances ~**

**Part One**

* * *

Teresa Lisbon slowly traced a finger down the bare chest of the man lying beside her, studiously ignoring the Cheshire cat grin she knew was plastered all over his face as she slowly continued her teasing explorations. For someone who spent most of his time lying asleep on a couch, Jane was oddly toned around his chest and shoulders – though, she thought to herself in amusement, he'd never be defined as "buff". The small splattering of light hair that she'd discovered on his chest surprised her as well, although she wasn't sure why.

It was almost as if she hadn't expected Jane to be quite so…normal.

Which sounded bad when put like that, but it wasn't, not really. In fact, Lisbon liked that about him, because it spoke of a deeper part of his character; the part that didn't seem to care about how he looked to other people, the part that somehow explained the three piece suits, brown shoes and tea-drinking. He was a strange man by anyone's definition, and he was all hers.

She smiled to herself as she continued to trace his body, enjoying the way he tensed when she moved dangerously close to a very sensitive area. He'd been mysterious and pretty much untouchable during the long decade before their first kiss, almost to the point that Lisbon had seen him more as a monk than a heterosexual man, but as it turned out, Jane was pretty normal when it came to _that _side of being a man as well.

The first time they'd made love, it had been on the floor of his Airstream, so hot and out-of-control that neither she nor Jane had noticed their carpet burns until well over two hours later. Their second time, not long after their first, was such a sensual experience and so unlike anything else she had ever experienced before, that Lisbon had cried genuine tears after they were finally sated. Jane hadn't, but the fact that he hadn't been able to speak for a full half an hour afterwards had spoken for itself.

They'd moved quickly since then.

She and Jane were living together now. It felt strange, it _was_ strange, but even to this day, they hadn't actually _talked _about living together. They just were. She'd stayed with Jane for the first couple of weeks until she'd finally found another place in Austin she liked that was close enough to work. Once she'd moved in there, Jane had followed her. He hadn't spent a night anywhere else since then, and Lisbon, surprisingly, found she was okay with that.

Ecstatic even…

She smiled again – seriously, she couldn't stop smiling - as she continued to lightly trace the contours of Jane's chest with her finger. She'd surprised herself with how well she had adjusted to being in an honest to God, real-life, committed relationship. She'd always thought that her reluctance to commit to anyone was going to doom her to a life alone. Even agreeing to marry Pike had made her feel pressured and tight-chested, and she knew, looking back on it now, that it would never have worked.

But now, with Jane, everything felt…right.

Clearly she had just never been 'committed' to the right man before.

As she continued to explore his body slowly and intimately, almost in curiosity rather than in lust, she marvelled at how he could still surprise her; by much she still didn't know about him, and by how much he – even with his 'powers' – still didn't know about her. They'd known each other for well over ten years now, had been together at such dazzling heights and gaping lows, and yet there was still so much to learn, still so much they had avoided dealing with.

For one, she knew next to nothing about his past. She knew only the man he had been ten years ago, immediately after his family had been brutally murdered, and the man he had grown into from that moment. She knew nothing of the man, and of the child, that he had been before that.

Lisbon frowned as she traced a thin scar on his shoulder, certain that it was an injury he'd sustained before they'd met. It…bothered her, more than it probably should. They were together now in every sense of the word, and although Jane had always had a mysterious air about him in the past, such a façade felt wrong now. She wanted to see more, to know more, to understand him completely.

And what scared her and excited her in equal measures was that she wanted him to know her too. Not everything, not all at once, but for the first time in her life, she felt…comfortable sharing the little intricacies that had made up her life up to this point.

She frowned again, stilling her movements on his chest for a moment, suddenly unsure about how to broach the subject. Jane was an uncommonly private man, and as much as she knew he loved her – god, he loved her – she didn't want to scare him off by asking too much of him, too soon.

Jane must have seen something in her face though, because his smile fell.

"What's wrong?" he asked her quietly, and she saw a flicker, just a flicker of self-doubt in his eyes.

"Nothing," she muttered, but then changed her mind. If she wanted Jane to be honest with her, the least she could do was offer him the same. "Actually…there's something I want to ask you."

"Ask me anything," he told her seriously, his eyes intense.

She hesitated, lying next to him. He immediately wrapped his arm around her, cocooning her in his embrace.

"It's going to sound weird…"

Jane smiled. "Teresa…"

"It's just…" she continued, tentatively smiling back. "I don't know much about you."

To her surprise, he laughed, and she realised in that moment that although Jane spent a lot of time smiling, he rarely laughed. It was a sound she could definitely get used to…

She frowned regardless, and glared down at him out of habit more than anything else. "I was being serious."

"And ridiculous, it seems," he retorted, looking up at her with amusement in his eyes. "We've known each other for over ten years. We've spent more time with each other than most married couples."

"More than you and Angela?" she asked. She knew it was cruel, but it was a point well made when she saw the shutters come down over his eyes. Jane's smile remained, but it was colder somehow. Then he sighed, deeply and without relief, and Lisbon suddenly felt terrible.

"Jane, I'm…"

"We met when we were kids," Jane interrupted her, his voice quiet but strong. "Angela and I grew up together, so of course she knew me well." He sighed again, but met her eyes. "But I concede your point. What is it that you would like to know?"

Jane smiled up at her, tentatively at first, but when his smile grew more sincere, she felt relief flood through her.

He was willing to make an effort, she realised. God, she loved this man.

"I want to know you," she leaned over to kiss him, and he responded hungrily. "All of you."

"It isn't all pretty," Jane warned her once she'd pulled away again.

She shrugged. "Like I didn't already know that."

"And," he continued. "I think it's only fair if you return the favour."

She swallowed deeply, but met his gaze without hesitation. "I…I want that too. I…want to tell you things, Jane. I want us – this – I want it to be real."

"I want that too," he replied hoarsely. "I just…I don't want to scare you off. I'm a broken man, Teresa, but despite the fact that I know you deserve better, I don't want to lose you. This is it for me. My second chance. My last chance."

"We don't have to do it all at once," she told him softly, rubbing a hand gently through his curls. "But no matter what you tell me, nothing will change how I feel about you. Nothing, Jane. God, you jumped a fence and dodged security just to tell me that you love me. I just…there's so much I don't know."

He gave her a long hard look, and whatever he was looking for, he must have found it.

"Okay," he said simply.

She didn't buy it. "Okay? Just like that?"

"No, not just like that," Jane replied with a shake of his head. "I…talking about things isn't particularly easy for me." He met her gaze, but instead of seeing a frown as she had expected, the smile that grew on his face almost took her breath away. "But, I love you very much, and if it's really what you want, then I'll do my best to answer any question you might have."

"There's no rush," she said softly, knowing how hard it was for him to open up, and appreciating beyond all measure the effort he was willing to make. "This isn't a deal-breaker for me, okay. I'm not going to leave if you refuse to answer one of my insanely personal questions. We'll have the rest of our lives to talk."

She didn't miss the way his eyes lit her when she spoke about their future, and it did a lot to lighten her heart.

"I know," he smiled. "But you happen to be right for once. If this…" he gestured between the two of them, "….is going to be real, we need to be honest and open with each other."

"Okay, then," began Lisbon, though her mind was a little blank. "So…Where should we start?"

"With a cup of tea, my dear," Jane replied with a grin. "If I'm going to be baring my soul to you, I'm going to need a little something to keep me going."

* * *

It took them another half an hour before they were able to drag themselves out of bed and downstairs. By the time they were sat comfortably on the couch, Jane armed with a fresh cup of tea, Lisbon was having second thoughts. She couldn't help but feel a strange sense of foreboding about the upcoming conversation, particularly because she herself had agreed that Jane wasn't going to be the only one baring his soul. There were things in her past that she had never told anyone, and to have to do so now was terrifying…

"Second thoughts?" Jane asked quietly, taking a sip of his tea.

"No," Lisbon replied, not altogether honestly. "It's just…"

"Scary."

She rolled her eyes. "You know, there's not much point in me answering your questions if you already know everything."

Jane smirked. "Nonsense. I love you, but I am not so deluded as to think I know everything about you. I'm sure you still have one or two more secrets that I haven't been able to guess yet…"

His grin grew, and she smiled back despite her apprehension. He was trying to lighten the mood again; she couldn't blame him for that, and truthfully, it only made her love him more.

"So, how do you want to do this?" she asked, quite happy for him to the lead now that he had agreed to her suggestion.

Jane took another sip of tea, looking thoughtful. "Well I suppose, since it was your idea, I'll go first."

"Okay," Lisbon agreed, wracking her brain as she tried to think back to her earlier thoughts. What exactly did she want to know…?

Annoyingly though, now that he had agreed to her request, she couldn't think of a single thing to ask him. Damn it…

"Why don't you tell me what you _do_ know, and I'll try to fill in the gaps," Jane offered, a twinkle in his eyes. It felt as if he was playing a game, and she was so relieved that he was truly willing to talk, that she decided to go along with it.

"Okay," she replied with a deep breath, snuggling into his side as she thought back to everything she had ever learnt about the man next to her. "Well…I know you sort of grew up on the carnie circuit in the mid-west. Your father was there for at least most of your childhood, I think, but I have no idea about your mother since you've never mentioned her. You have a juvenile record, but it sealed so I have no idea what's in it…"

"You tried to look into my records?" Jane asked, eye brows raised. He seemed surprised, and Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"Of course I did," she replied. "I'm your law-enforcement boss. Or I was at the time, anyway."

He frowned, though whether it was because she knew something he'd been expecting her not to, or whether it was because he was worried about what else she'd dug up, she wasn't sure.

"Can I go on?" she asked cautiously, still worried slightly about scaring him off.

"Of course," Jane replied, a grin splattered across his face once more, though it seemed a little more forced than usual.

"Anyway," she continued quietly, "I know you met you wife when you were a kid, but other than that, I don't know much about that part of your life. I know, from what little you've told me, that you didn't go to high-school, but I have no idea if you had any other sort of formal education before that point. I also know that you eventually left the carnie world with Angela, but I have no idea when or exactly why."

She paused, still unsure if he was okay with her bringing up his wife. When he didn't react at all, she found the nerve to continue. "All I know about your life after that is that you eventually married Angela, made a good living pretending to be psychic, got rich, moved to Malibu and had Charlotte."

He flinched slightly when she mentioned his daughter's name, as he always did, but otherwise his face was blank. Jane seemed to be thinking hard though; of course, since she didn't possess his incredible abilities to read faces, she wasn't sure exactly what it was that was going on in his head. She could guess though; because it was one thing for him to have an idea of how much he had been keeping from her, but it was another thing entirely for her to lay it all out in front of him like she just had.

"That's quite a few gaps to fill in, my dear," Jane sighed, confirming Lisbon's thoughts as he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed surprised by how much she didn't know, as if he had only just realised how much he had been hiding from her.

"I know," she replied. "And you don't have to tell me everything, you really don't. I just…"

"I have enough baggage to fill three suitcases, Teresa," Jane told her, almost like a warning. "Even if I told you half of that stuff, it would be enough to make anyone want to run a mile."

She felt apprehension and dread rush through her again, because he seemed genuinely concerned about what he might tell her, and she couldn't help but think that maybe sometimes ignorance _was _bliss.

And then she thought back to all the times he had lied to her, all the times he had deliberately kept something from her for her "own good". Lisbon knew that she could never force Jane to talk about his past, not when it was clearly a sore point for him for so many reasons, but she couldn't deny the fact that it would hurt her irrevocably if he chose to run from this conversation now.

She shrugged, pushing away the last of her doubt. "I'm not anyone, Jane. Anyway, I have a couple of suitcases full of baggage myself."

"Why?" he asked quietly. "Why do you care so much who I was then? Why does it matter?"

"Because it's a part of you, whether you like it or not," Lisbon replied honestly. "It shaped you, it made you who you are today. And I happen to like who you are today, for the record. I just feel...I feel like I'm missing some important pieces of the puzzle."

"My life...it's a complicated puzzle, to say the least," he warned half-heartedly. "This might take a while."

"We have time, Jane," she responded quietly, turning to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "We have forever, if you want..."

"There's nothing I want more," Jane replied, pressing an equally gentle kiss on her cheek before pulling her close to his chest. She could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest, could feel the comforting heat coming from his arms, and when she closed her eyes, Lisbon found herself revelling solely in the moment, her worries and concerns fading away; because despite everything, she couldn't imagine ever being happier than she was now.

Jane sighed deeply and pulled her closer still. And then he began to talk.

* * *

**A/N – **So, as you can already probably tell, this story is going to quite angsty in parts (which won't surprise any of my long-time readers). I'm not really sure how long it's going to be though, because there are two ways (in my head at least) that I could go with it, and - depending on what I decide - there may be quite a lot of angst, or there may not much at all. I will say, though, that if everything goes how I think it will in my head, it's going to be romantic fluff for the most part. Well, that's the plan anyway. I don't have such a good track record of sticking to plans, but we'll see how it goes. Either way I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please let me know if you want me to continue this, but for now, thanks for reading!


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer - **The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller and CBS. Not me. Obviously.

**A/N – **Erm…wow! What an amazing response to the first chapter! I'll be honest with you all - I wrote it on a bit of a whim, mainly because Jane's past is something that I've always been fascinated with, and it's an avenue that's barely been explored on the show at all. With Jane and Lisbon now in a relationship, it seemed a good point for him to start revealing a little bit more of himself to her, but I never expected so many people to be so interested in the same idea. I'm so glad you are though! Thank you for all your reviews, and I hope this lives up to all your expectations – enjoy!

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**~ Second Chances ~**

**Part Two**

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"I'll start at the beginning, shall I?" Jane began quiet, his voice soft and yet strong, all at the same time. Lisbon felt a rush intense pride run through her as she listened to the man she had fallen in love with begin to speak. For someone with such a secretive nature, talking about his past was something that was obviously difficult for him, and she was amazed that he felt ready to confide in her. Lisbon had a feeling that the last person he had spoken to about any remotely personal had been his wife...

"The beginning is as good a place as any," Lisbon mumbled and she snuggled into his side.

He pulled her closer as he began to speak. "Okay, I was born in Massachusetts - "

"Really?" Lisbon interrupted almost immediately, surprised in spite of herself. "I thought you grew up in the Mid-West."

"I did," Jane replied, with a roll of his eyes. "Will you let me tell my story, woman?"

Lisbon almost rolled her eyes as well – since she knew he was only teasing her – but she managed to stop herself just in time. She hadn't actually meant to interrupt him, especially since she knew better than anyone how hard it was for him to speak in the first place, but for some reason she hadn't been able to stop herself.

"Thank you," Jane continued snottily, though there was amusement in his eyes that told her that he wasn't being serious. She was glad for that; glad he could find some amusement in the otherwise no doubt miserable conversation.

"Anyway," he continued, "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I was _born _in Massachusetts, although as far as I'm aware, we only stayed there a few weeks before we went back to the Mid-West. My dad grew up on the Carnie circuit there, and he didn't know how to do anything else."

"What about your mom?" Lisbon asked quietly, since it was something that had always bugged her about Jane, but something she had equally never found the courage to bring up.

"I think she was from New York originally, although I'm not really sure," Jane sighed slightly. "She was…er, she was a student at the University of Massachusetts when she and my dad met."

"Oh," Lisbon replied, not really sure what else she could say, or whether she should be saying anything at all. Jane looked tense when talking about his mother, and it was clearly a difficult subject for him to discuss. Somehow, Lisbon got the impression that his mother's surprisingly young age was only the tip of the ice-berg.

"Yeah," Jane sighed. "He could be a real charmer when he wanted to be. Anyway, she met him, got pregnant, and eventually dropped out. They stayed in Massachusetts until I was born, and then as soon as I arrived, my dad dragged us back to the Mid-West circuit."

"And her parents…?" Lisbon paused, the reconsidered her word choice. "Well, your grandparents, I suppose…?"

"They wanted nothing to do with her," Jane finished, his expression blank, though there was a small tinge of something in his eyes, something that she couldn't quite identify. Regret? Sadness..?

Lisbon didn't know what to say to that, since it was obvious there was more to the story, but she knew that she had to let Jane speak in his own time.

Jane cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think we ended up joining up with the carnival circuit about four weeks after I was born, and as you've already so helpfully pointed out, the Mid-Wes circuit is then where I spent the majority of my childhood. In fact, the carnie life was pretty much all I knew until I ran away with Angela..."

Lisbon was silent as Jane trailed off, almost afraid to speak in case she broke the spell. He was deep in thought, uncertain, as if it was going to take a monumental effort to say what he was about to say next. She had never seen him like this; Jane had always been in control, self-assured, untouchable, but now…now he was shaken.

Lisbon wrapped an arm around his middle as she moved closer to his chest, hoping that he would take a little comfort from the gesture. She half-regretted bringing up the whole subject of their pasts now, especially since they had started the day off so happily together, but then she remembered why she wanted to do this. She _loved _him, more than she could ever express in words, but she loved him based on the past twelve or so years. It would be enough, it would always be enough, but she couldn't help but want to love Jane for_ every_ version of the man and boy he had been in his life, not just the version she knew.

Lisbon had a feeling, though, that Jane was starting to open up one of those 'suitcases' he had mentioned, and she couldn't help the thrill of apprehension that went through her at the mere thought of it. Her imagination was running wild, no matter how hard she tried to stop it, because Jane had barely ever spoken about his childhood, and she had a feeling – even putting aside his penchant for being secretive and mysterious - that Jane had a very good reason for that.

Almost as if he had read her mind, Jane began to speak again, and Lisbon felt her grip tighten sub-consciously around his waist.

"My dad…," Jane continued uncertainly, though his voice didn't waver. "Er…he wasn't a particularly good dad. Or a good man really."

"Is he…?" Lisbon trailed off, unable to way to phrase her question that didn't seem completely heartless. Thankfully, Jane always seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Is he dead?" Jane finished, looking uncharacteristically bitter. He shrugged as if completely unconcerned but Lisbon could feel the tension in his body, could hear the slight waver in his voice. "I have no idea. If he is, no-one's thought to tell me about it. I'm not sure I'd even care…"

Lisbon didn't know what to say to that either, so she decided to leave it for now and ask another pressing question instead.

"What about your mom?" she prompted gently.

He sighed, but it was a sigh that clearly didn't offer him any relief. "She…left when I was about four or so, and as far as I know, she died a couple of years later. She wasn't a particularly good mom either, although I…I don't really blame her for that."

Lisbon bit back the question that wanted to burst from her lips and instead curled further into Jane's body on the couch. His arms wrapped around her petite body again, and she felt comforted by the gesture, comforted by the fact that no matter what he still had to reveal about his past, he was still _her _Jane.

"You can ask me anything, you know," Jane mumbled as he kissed the top of her head. "I…want to tell you about…well, I want to tell you whatever you want to know…"

She shook her head. "Tell me something happy."

"Happy?" Jane asked, apparently surprised by her request.

She tried to keep her voice from breaking, but she wasn't sure she entirely managed it. "I need to know that it wasn't all terrible for you. I need to know that the little blond haired boy I keep picturing in my head had something good in his life."

Jane's expression tightened almost imperceptivity, and she felt him pull her closer as he replied. "We lived hand to mouth for the most part, which certainly isn't the sort of lifestyle that lends itself to fun. It was…tough."

"You must have some good memories though," Lisbon prompted, almost desperately. "Something that you look back on and smile about."

She couldn't quite fathom how someone who grew up at the carnival could possibly have spent the entire time miserable, but maybe her lack of understanding had more to do with desperation than actually belief. Because in all honestly, she didn't _want _to think that Jane had suffered so much even before the brutal loss of his family. She didn't _want _to believe that the little blond haired boy who kept popping up in her mind had had all his hope stripped away at such a young age.

"You met your wife when you were a child, didn't you?" she asked finally, when Jane didn't seem to have an answer for her.

"Yes," he replied quietly.

"And..."

"I was trying to steal from her," Jane mumbled, and for a second, Lisbon's brain didn't quite register what Jane was saying…

She frowned once it began to sink in, "You tried to steal from a little girl?"

"In my defence, I was only a little boy at the time," Jane muttered. "Anyway, I didn't exactly have the best role model. At the time, I didn't really know that what I was doing was wrong. All that went through my mind at the time was that her family was a hell of a lot better off than mine, that I was hungry, and that she was eating a huge bar of chocolate all by herself…"

"You were hungry?" Lisbon asked sadly. She had a feeling the hunger hadn't been his choice at the time, and she felt her heart constrict slightly at that sad realisation...

"Like I said, my dad wasn't the best," Jane replied tightly. "And yes, to answer your question, I was very hungry at the time, and just for the record, it didn't look like I'd be getting anything to eat any time soon. My dad had been on one of his benders and he'd passed out in our trailer. I knew better than to disturb him and risk…well, risk him getting mad at me, so I was just wandering outside until it was safe enough to go back. And then I saw Angela, eating that stupid chocolate, and I was so mad that I decided that if anyone deserved that chocolate, it was me."

"So you tried to take it," Lisbon began slowly, and then a thought hit her. Jane had made a very specific point of using the word 'tried'…

"She punched me in the nose," Jane explained, again reading her thoughts as he raised a hand to touch his face, almost as if lost in the memory.

Lisbon knew it wasn't really funny, but she couldn't help picturing a small, blond cherub-like boy being punched in the nose by an equally small little girl, and the smile grew on her face before she could even begin to try and stop it.

Thankfully, a small smile began to light up Jane's face as well before he continued. "She felt so bad about it that she invited me round to her trailer to see if her mom could fix me up. I ended up staying for dinner. I must've looked pathetic to them as well, because they invited me almost every night after that. I couldn't always go – mainly because of my dad – but when I could…it made things better, I suppose. They were good to me."

"I'm glad, Jane." And she was. She really, really was.

"Anyway, she and I were almost inseparable after that," Jane continued, obviously reminiscing in a more positive way now. "And it was always good to have somewhere to go when things got rough between me and my dad. Particularly when I hit the teenage years…"

"How rough did things get?" Lisbon asked, almost afraid of the answer.

She couldn't imagine Jane – the man who had always avoided physical confrontation at an almost expert level – being raised in that sort of environment. The sort of environment she knew only too well herself…

"What are you asking me?" Jane asked her quietly, although he must have already known the answer to that question. He was stalling, she realised, which instantly filled her with dread. Oh, his suitcase of baggage was well and truly open now…

"Was he…violent?" she asked finally, her voice quiet and full of suppressed anger. Because deep down she already knew the answer.

"Define 'violent," Jane replied quietly, and in that moment, she knew for sure.

"Did he ever hit you?" she asked bluntly, trying desperately to keep a lid on her anger. She couldn't help it though. She knew what it felt like to take a punch from someone who should have been protecting her from harm instead, and for that to have happened to Jane as well…

"When I turned fifteen or so, my dad and I…we started to fight more and more," Jane began quietly. "And the fights…well, yes, they eventually turned…physical."

He smiled, but the expression was so bitter and insincere that, had she not been furious at his father, it would have frightened her. "I would say that I gave as good as I got, but you've seen me in a fight…

Lisbon didn't smile in reply, and wasn't honestly sure if she would ever be able to smile again.

"So he beat you up then," she said bluntly, though she tried to make it clear to him that she wasn't in any way mad at him. Lisbon wasn't entirely sure she was succeeding, but with her energy almost entirely focused on trying to stay calm, she wasn't sure how much effort she could spare.

Jane shook his head. "Not always. Only when he was particularly mad. There was one time…"

She sighed quietly to herself as she felt his hesitation in every cell of his body.

"Go on, Jane," Lisbon prompted softly. "You can tell me anything. I promise, I'm not going to judge you."

He swallowed hard. "I was about fifteen. There was a girl…she had cancer, and my dad wanted me to scam her and her grandmother out of ten grand by making them think I was using a magic crystal to heal her illness."

"Oh, Jane…"

"I didn't want to do it," Jane replied, almost desperately. "I promise you I didn't. But he threatened to throw me out if I didn't do what he wanted, and there was no way I had enough money to make it on my own at that point. I…hated myself for what I did to that little girl and the grandmother though. So when it was all over, I told my dad that I wouldn't do it anymore, that I wouldn't scam people like that again no matter what he threatened me with. He…ah...he didn't take too kindly to that. To make a long story short, I...I woke up in hospital and ended up spending the next six months in foster care."

Before she could ask, before she could even begin to comprehend what Jane had just revealed to her, her cell phone began to ring in her pocket. She lifted the phone to her ear with a movement that was almost mechanical, and listened numbly as Abbott began to speak.

When she finally hung up, Lisbon cleared her throat, hoping that it wasn't hoarse when she spoke. "Our…talk is going to have to wait for a bit. We have a case."

* * *

**A/N - **So how was it? I realise that it was all very dialogue heavy, but I hope that it wasn't boring at least, and that you found Jane's back-story to be somewhat realistic. I know took a lot of liberties with Jane's past, but I did try to keep it in line with what little we do know from the show. As you can see, there's still plenty more to come, and I'd love to hear your suggestions on what you'd like him to reveal next. Until then though, thanks for reading!


	3. Part Three

**Disclaimer - **The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller and CBS. Not me. Obviously.

**A/N – **Hello again, my wonderful readers! Thank you so much for all your heart-warming comments after the last chapter. I'm glad so many of you enjoyed all the little snippets into Jane's past, and that you found them largely realistic given what we already know. This continues very much the same vein, so I hope you like it just as much...enjoy!

* * *

**~ Second Chances ~**

**Part Three**

* * *

The case ended up taking over their lives for the next two days, and any time that she and Jane weren't in the office, or following down a potential lead, was spent either eating or sleeping. In fact, as it turned out, they barely even managed to find enough time to say good morning or goodnight to each other, let alone revisit the undoubtedly painful conversation for both of them about their respective pasts.

The trouble was, Lisbon thought frequently to herself throughout the two days, the talk was affecting her whether she had time to think about it or not.

Lisbon had tried to keep her mind focused on the case - she really had - but the conversation she had started with Jane was rolling around and around in her mind, haunting her with images that she wish hadn't been put in her head.

A small, blond haired boy who was too skinny because he wasn't being fed at home. The same boy wandering around a deserted fairground because his dad had passed out drunk in their trailer and he was scared of what would happen if he disturbed him. A teenage version of the same blond boy being beaten by his father so badly that he ended up in hospital, only to find, upon wakening, that he had to go and live with some strangers because the home he had been living in his whole life had finally been declared as unfit for him.

She felt as if her heart was breaking into a million little pieces every single time she thought about it, though she did her best not to let on to Jane about it. He _seemed_ unaffected by the whole conversation, focused solely on the case and nothing else, but she knew him better now. She knew him well enough now to know that his nightmares at night weren't always about the murder of his family, and that when he sometimes got lost in his thoughts whilst sat on his couch, his mind wasn't entirely centred on the case, or even on catching the murderer. But she also knew him well enough to know that if she brought the conversation up again before he was ready, it would probably do more harm than good.

So she said nothing, even though she still had so many questions about Jane's past that it was haunting her as much as it was him.

They had to finish what they'd started, Lisbon knew that at least. They had to get it all out in the open, and then she hoped to God that once they had, it would mean that they could have the fresh start they both deserved; a fresh start together. It would be tough, but worth it. Jane was definitely worth it.

Soon, she promised herself, over and over again. Soon.

* * *

By the third day, Jane had clearly had enough of the case, because the scheme he came up with to solve it in the end was so elaborate and ridiculous that Lisbon couldn't help but be glad that she was no longer his supervising agent. The annoying thing - as it always was with Jane - was that it worked like a charm. Well, more or less…

"You're an idiot," she told him hours after all the dust had finally settled, unable to keep her fondness from her voice as she gently pressed ice onto Jane's swollen nose. They were home now, sitting on the couch again, and with a full two days off to look forward to. And yet Lisbon couldn't help the thrill of apprehension that ran through her, because she knew that at some point they would revisit the conversation they had started earlier on in the week, and despite the fact that it had been her idea in the first place, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know more. Or rather, that she would be able to _handle _knowing any more…

"It wasn't my fault," Jane mumbled, wincing when she pressed the ice a little too hard on his face. Lisbon carried on regardless; he'd already been checked out by a paramedic and the nose wasn't broken. Just sore. "That woman was asking for it…"

"She was seventy years old, Jane," Lisbon scolded, although there was no fire in her voice. "And that poor woman did nothing to deserve the way you spoke to her."

"She's nowhere near as innocent as she was making out, I can assure you, my dear," Jane replied knowingly.

"You're only saying that because she punched you in the nose," Lisbon said, passing him the icepack so that he could tend to his own injury as she settled on the couch.

"Meh, it was all part of solving the case," Jane replied airily. This time Lisbon made no effort to stop herself rolling her eyes.

"Whatever," Lisbon said dismissively, knowing from experience that there was no point in arguing with him about it. It was Abbott's problem now anyway, she reminded herself. "How _did_ you know it was the gardener though?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Jane teased, pulling her close to her chest. Lisbon went willingly, sighing deeply as she enjoyed the warm feeling of his arms around her body. God, she'd missed this…

"I _would_ like to know actually," she replied, doing her best to sound annoyed, even though in all honesty, she wouldn't change Jane's teasing for anything. "I always want to know."

To her surprise, though, all amusement seemed to have gone from his face. She frowned as she thought back to their conversation, trying to work out what might have conceivably set him off.

"Oh, are we back to that again?" he asked quietly, leaning back with a deep sigh.

Lisbon didn't have to fake her confusion. "_What_ again? What are you talking about?"

"The conversation about our pasts," Jane replied, offering her a small knowing smile. "The one where we reveal all…

He trailed off dramatically, but Lisbon caught the brief trace of fear in his voice. His smile didn't fade, but he did seem uncharacteristically nervous about talking about his past again.

"We don't have to…" began Lisbon, but she knew, deep in her heart that it wasn't true. Despite her apprehension, she did want to know more about the man she had fallen in love with. She wanted to know everything about him; the good, the bad, and the ugly…

Jane sighed again. "You want to ask me, don't you?"

She decided to play dumb for once. "Ask you what?"

"You know precisely what," Jane replied with a smirk, although there was no amusement in his eyes. "But for some reason, you're _not_ _going _to ask me what you so obviously want to ask me because I was just punched in the nose and you don't think I can handle it."

Lisbon shook her head as she snuggled into his side. "Jane, I don't think _I _can handle it."

"What?" For once she'd managed to surprise him.

"I…everything you've already told me," Lisbon told him. "It's a lot to take in, that's all. I just…I never realised how bad it was for you."

She wanted to know more and yet at the same time, she didn't. It was confusing and terrifying and only Jane was able to bring those emotions out in her in such an intense and overwhelming way.

"There was no reason why you should have realised," Jane replied. "It's why I never talk about it, after all. I don't particularly like pity…"

It was Lisbon's turn to be surprised. "You think I pity you?"

He looked at her with self-disgust almost bursting through his eyes. "Why wouldn't you?"

Lisbon chose not to answer, instead shooting back her own question. "Do you pity me?"

"No," Jane replied.

"Why?" Lisbon asked. "You know enough about my past to know that it wasn't exactly sunshine and daisies either. Why don't you pity me?"

"Because you're strong," he replied. "I'm…"

"You are the strongest man I've ever met," Lisbon interrupted, turning to face him.

Jane laughed bitterly. "And yet I just got sucker-punched by an old lady."

"That was your own fault," Lisbon reminded him without sympathy. "But that's not the kind of strength I was talking about. I was talking about the strength it takes to keep living, to keep smiling, even in spite of the fact that your entire world was taken from you in such a horrific way. I'm talking about the strength it takes to run away from a childhood of abuse and not only survive it, but flourish in spite of it."

"It wasn't a childhood of abuse," Jane dismissed with a wave of his hand. "And just for the record, _flourishing _is a lot to live up to."

"But you _do_ live up to it," she told him. "Every single day. And yes it was."

It was Jane's turn to play dumb. "Was what?"

Lisbon had no intention of playing games anymore. "It was a childhood of abuse."

"Teresa…"

"Shut up for a minute and listen to me, Jane," Lisbon interrupted before he could argue with her further. This time Jane had brought up the topic of their pasts, and Lisbon was going to take the opportunity presented to her. It would be like ripping off a plaster, she decided; short-lived, painful, revealing but ultimately necessary in order to let the wound properly heal.

"I'm listening, my love," Jane mumbled, snuggling his face into her hair. She felt her face flush slightly, still not quite used to Jane using the 'L' word.

"Before Abbott called us to tell us about the case," she began cautiously, "You told me that you and your father got in a fight that ended up with you in hospital _and _foster care. How is that not abuse?"

"It was a fight that got out of hand," Jane replied quietly. "The word 'abuse' implies that that such an event was a regular occurrence. It wasn't."

"It doesn't matter," Lisbon argued. "Abuse is abuse, no matter how infrequent. Anyway, I think it was probably more frequent than you remember."

"You questioning my memory?" Jane asked, sounding almost like his usual self. "In case you don't recall, I have a memory palace…"

"I think sometimes traumatic memories can be…distorted," Lisbon began cautiously, holding up a hand when Jane made a move to reply. "Just hear me out. If it wasn't abuse, why did they put you in foster care?"

"They made a mistake," Jane answered, looking bitter as he thought back. "Putting me in foster care…it only made things worse."

"Why?" Lisbon asked softly.

Jane shrugged but the fact that he tightened his arms around her told Lisbon that he wasn't as unbothered by it as he was trying to make out. Lisbon was scared to find out why.

Finally, he replied. "Once you're in the system…it's easy to get lost."

"How many families did you get placed with?" she asked quietly.

Jane sighed. "Twenty."

"Twenty?" Lisbon asked incredulously. "In only six months?"

"I wasn't exactly the best-behaved teenager," Jane replied with a wry grin. In spite of her apprehension, Lisbon smiled at the thought.

"Hardly surprising," Lisbon noted. "You aren't exactly the best-behaved adult either."

Jane smiled a little more sincerely at her comment. "I think I traumatised half of the families of the mid-west before they gave up trying to find me a placement."

"Were they all…terrible?" Lisbon asked quietly, sobering slightly.

Jane sighed. "No. Some were okay, I suppose. I just…I never felt as if I belonged with any of them. They were nice enough – most of the time anyway – but…I grew up with Carnies."

"I don't understand."

"I spent my childhood living in a trailer," Jane explained. "When times were particularly tough, I slept on a couch. When the new families gave me a bedroom…it was something I wasn't used to. And my lack of experience with…conventional American life made me feel like an outsider even more than I already was as a carnie kid."

"So you rebelled until they let you go home?" Lisbon guessed.

"And then some," Jane replied with a less than modest nod that made Lisbon smile. "Anyway, they never actually _let _me go home."

Her smile faded away somewhat. "I don't understand…"

"I ran away," Jane told her quietly. "Sometime between the twentieth and twenty-first families. I eventually made my way back to the carnie circuit, and kept a relatively low profile from then on, hoping that the authorities wouldn't be looking too hard for me. My dad…wasn't pleased." Jane paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "He, er…he thought I'd ratted him out, and basically told me that he didn't want anything to do with me. Luckily, Pete and Sam were around, and I stayed with them for a while. Then I ran away again, only this time I took Angie with me."

"Wow," Lisbon breathed.

"Yep," Jane replied, looking nervously at her. Lisbon did her best to keep any pity from creeping on her face, and gave him a long kiss to make it crystal clear to him that this insight into his past had changed nothing. Especially not the way she felt about him.

"I love you," she told him, quietly and with all the emotion she could convey. "Thank you for telling me all this. It…means a lot."

His hundred-watt smile was reward enough for her honesty. "You're welcome. And I love you too…but we're not done."

"We're not?" Lisbon asked, apprehension creeping up on her, along with a feeling of dread so clear that she had to suppress the sudden urge to run away. She had a feeling she knew where Jane was going with this, and she was not looking forward to it.

"Nope," Jane replied softly, and then he kissed her gently before he proceeded to confirm her worst suspicions. "I believe, my dear, that it's your turn now."

* * *

**A/N - **So how was it? I realise that there are still a lot of questions still left to answer about Jane's past, but I thought it was time for Lisbon to open up a little bit too. I hope you like the direction I'm taking this in, and that Lisbon's past is just as interesting to you as Jane's. Please let me know, but for now - and until next time - thanks for reading!


	4. Part Four

**Disclaimer -** The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller and CBS. Not me. Obviously.

**A/N –** Hello! Thank you so much for all your kind words about the last chapter - I appreciate every single one of them. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story so far, though I am sorry for the slight delay in getting this chapter out. I put a lot of thought into this one however, and spent a lot of time working and re-working it, so I hope it's at least worth the wait. Enjoy!

* * *

**~ Second Chances ~**

**Part Four**

* * *

"_I believe, my dear, that it's your turn now…"_

Pulling Lisbon even closer to his chest – admittedly for his own comfort as much as hers - Jane forced himself to remain silent as she took a moment to consider his words, and to properly think about her answer. And even though his instincts were screaming at him to tell her that it didn't matter; that she didn't have to tell him anything if she didn't want to, Jane knew that he had to let her speak, because on some level at least, he had to know as well.

She was the most fascinating person he had ever met – with her spark of anger, fierce loyalty, and bursting heart – but despite his penchant for ferretting out secrets, he had never quite managed to get more from her than a very bleak, but undoubtedly vague picture of her past. And now that they were together – in every wonderful sense of the word as well, he thought with a smile – he wanted to know more about her; just as she had told him, Jane wanted to know everything…

So, instead of jumping in and changing the subject, Jane watched silently as Lisbon struggled to find the strength to begin her tale. He knew how important it was for them to finish what they had started, not just for their combined curiosity about each other, but for _them_. If they were going to make this work – and god, he _wanted _to make this work – he knew that they couldn't afford to continue with the way things had been going for the last few years. There was no doubt in his mind that they were both guilty of keeping far too much to themselves, and despite how terrifying it felt to open himself up to another person, he found that he _wanted _to with her.

But he also knew how hard it was, and honestly, had Lisbon not asked him to talk about his past, he probably would never have told her about it. Not because he didn't trust her, or because he didn't want her to know, but because he didn't even want to _think _about his rather murky past, let alone talk about it.

But she had asked him, and in his new-found state as her lover, Jane found that he couldn't deny her anything. Had she asked for the world, Jane would have found a way to give it to her.

He had a feeling though, that despite the fact that they hadn't even brushed the surface of _his_ past yet, the worst thing about this conversation was going to be listening to Lisbon speak about hers_;_ because curiosity was all well and good, but if even half of what he'd guessed about her childhood was true, he was categorically not going to be okay hearing about it.

There was no doubt about it; because if he was the poster boy for messed up childhoods, she was the poster girl.

They had both been motherless from a young age, and both had had fathers who'd left much to be desired. Jane knew she had raised her three brothers almost single-handedly after the death of her mother, though what that had entailed precisely, he could only guess.

He glanced down at Lisbon again, this time catching her eye. She was quiet but clearly thinking hard, as if she was trying to find the best place to start, and most likely, what to leave out altogether. That particular thought filled him with a heavy dread, though he knew he had no right to call her out on it. He had lied to her more times than he could count, and yet, even though she'd always been mad at him at first, she had always forgiven him in the end. Even for Vegas, which he still hadn't even forgiven himself for yet…

It made him wonder how she had turned out so…good. From what little he already knew, they'd had similar childhoods, and yet she had turned out to be such a _good _person, whereas he'd been a conman from the minute he had reached adulthood, and had only given that lifestyle up when it had killed his wife and child.

Jane shook that thought away with a force that rivalled anything he had ever managed before, and focused his mind back on Lisbon instead, breathing in her comforting scent as he steadied himself again. After a few seconds though - long before he felt ready enough to tackle the on-coming conversation - he felt Lisbon tense in his arms, and he knew that she was finally ready to talk...

"My dad…he wasn't always violent."

The words took Jane by surprise, but despite the horrific images that immediately burst into his mind, he almost smiled, because it was so like Lisbon to go straight for the jugular. No beating around the bush for her…

"He was a good dad, at first," she continued quietly. "When mom was around, at least. After she died, he just…gave up, I suppose. It was as if she was his reason for being good, and after she was gone, he just didn't see the point in making an effort anymore."

Jane felt his heart clench when he thought about how similar that was to his own life. Angela had been that person for him, making him a better man though all the good times and the bad, even despite the fact that he was, and likely always would be, a conman at heart. After her death, he had given up on being good himself, focusing solely on revenge instead. But then he had met Lisbon, and suddenly he'd had someone else like that; someone who made him want to be better. She really was his second chance…

"I was the oldest," she continued, and Jane shook himself out of his thoughts as he listened to her speak. "So it was up to me to keep everyone going."

"Did you even get chance to grieve for her?" Jane asked quietly, sadness colouring his tone. He knew what it was like to have an absentee mother, but he had never really been given the chance to grieve her death, or even appreciate what her loss meant. She'd never been there for him, so he had never really known what he was missing. But Lisbon…

It was obvious that her world had changed from the minute her mother had died…

"I grieved a little bit, at first," Lisbon replied sadly. "But when dad started drinking, I knew I had to step up and take care of my brothers, because he sure as hell wasn't going to."

"Do you hate him?" he asked, because it was something he himself had struggled with. Yes, his father had been there where his mother hadn't, but he had also spent the majority of his childhood wishing he hadn't been born at all, and 'hate' had never been very far away…

"I hate what he became," she replied with a tired sigh. "But do I hate _him_? It's complicated, Jane. I love my dad, but after my mom died…he just wasn't my dad anymore."

"And that's when he got violent?"

"Not at first," she replied, almost matter-of-factly, and he hated that she saw it as…almost normal. "But when my brothers got older, and the stress began to pile up…he began to lash out."

"At you?" Jane asked, unable to hide the anger in his tone. She might not entirely hate her father, but Jane did, and he always would for the pain he had caused her.

"I wasn't about to let him get to my brothers, Jane," she replied. "They were my responsibility. I had to protect them."

"It shouldn't have been your responsibility," Jane pointed out. "It should have been his."

"You don't think I know that?" she challenged. "But that's just the way it was."

He frowned deeply. "So you just took the beatings…?"

"Yes," she replied with a heavy sigh. "I was thirteen. He was a full grown man with anger issues and a stomach full of alcohol and regret. There was never a lot I could do to stop him."

He felt her tense, and Jane almost subconsciously tightened his grip around her small body. Then he felt dread run through him as a terrible, horrific thought suddenly entered his mind.

"Did he ever…?"

He couldn't say it out loud, couldn't even form the words to ask her the question. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know…

"Did he ever try to…touch me?" she guessed, and Jane flinched at the bluntness in her tone.

"Yes," Jane replied hoarsely, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. "Did he…?"

"No," she told him, and he felt relief flood through him when he realised she was telling the truth. "There were a couple of times that I thought he might…try something. But he never did. He just…got angry instead. Like he kind of wished _she _was there instead of me."

Jane hated him even more in that moment, because he couldn't imagine the kind of effect that it'd had on a young Teresa Lisbon, and on the incredible woman she had become in spite of it.

"I'm sorry," he told her quietly, and he was. He was so sorry that she had been through that, that she had ever been treated that way by someone who was supposed to love her.

"It happened," she shrugged, snuggling further into his side. "Nothing I can do about it now. Anyway, I survived. My brothers survived. It could have been worse. If he hadn't…"

She trailed off, and he felt her tense up again.

"Hadn't what?" he prompted after a few moments of silence, even though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

"Hadn't killed himself," she muttered, confirming Jane's thoughts. "If he hadn't killed himself, I think it would have been worse. Does that make me horrible? For being glad he's dead."

Jane knew he was not the person to give advice on that particular subject, given his own troubled past, but she had asked him, and he owed it to her to give the most honest answer he could.

"I think you went through something terrible," Jane replied quietly. "And I think that you were relieved that it was over. That's not a crime, Lisbon. And it doesn't make you a bad person."

"But it wasn't over," she replied. "I was sixteen, and I had three younger brothers to take care of. I even had to fight CPS so that we could stay together."

"Did they try to put you in foster care?" he asked, surprised that he hadn't picked up on that during all their years together.

"I wouldn't let them," she told him with a fire in her voice that almost made him smile. "I told them that I could take care of my brothers, and I fought them every step of the way until they finally believed me."

"You did the right thing," he mumbled, though he knew she didn't need to hear it. He thought back to his own experiences of foster care, and he knew Lisbon had done the best thing for her family by keeping them together at home. "However hard it was, your brothers are who they are now because of what you did."

"I know," she said quietly. "I don't regret that, at least."

"But you do regret something," he guessed.

"I regret not stopping him," she replied. Jane knew she was talking about her father again, and he couldn't help but wish she wouldn't. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take before his anger at the man got too much…

Jane frowned as he fought to calm down. "You regret not stopping him from what? Hurting you…?"

"From killing himself," she replied with a shake of himself, and then she continued quickly, before Jane could interrupt. "I know it's stupid, and I know that there was nothing I could have done. I know that we were…better off with him dead, but…I saved my brothers. Why couldn't I save him?"

"I guess some people just can't be saved," he muttered quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She was quiet for a long time then, and Jane was content to simply sit there in the silence and allow his thoughts to run wildly through his mind. He'd known that this conversation would be difficult, that her past was as dark and murky as his, but he hadn't quite realised how painful it would be to hear he speak about such unspeakable things. It was almost unbearable, but,, he told himself, bear it he would, as long as she wanted him to...

"Jane..." she began finally, uncertainty clear in her voice. "Can I ask you a question?"

Jane sighed slightly, but forced his apprehension away again. "Sure. Go ahead, my dear."

"I just…when you were in the…mental hospital…"

She trailed off, clearly unsure of how to word her question. Fortunately, Jane had an idea where she was going with it, and though he didn't really want to talk about it, he found, once again, that he couldn't deny her.

"I never considered doing what your father did, if that's what you're asking?" he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone. Not that he was bitter at her; rather he was bitter at himself for ever giving her the impression that such a thing was a possibility with him.

"I wasn't going to ask – "

"Yes, you were," he interrupted. Then he sighed, and pulled her closer, hoping to show her that he wasn't mad at her.

"You never..hurt yourself? Not at all?" Lisbon asked. Clearly she was surprised by his answer, but Jane couldn't blame her for that. Given the mess he had been in even after being released from the institution, it wasn't that much of a stretch.

"I…tried," he sighed. "Sort of. Once. Before the hospital."

She seemed to be more sad than shocked at his answer, and he felt shame rise up in him again.

"Pills," he continued, answering her un-asked question. "Sleeping pills. I took almost a full bottle before the paramedics got to me. I didn't exactly want to...die. I wasn't really thinking about the consequences. I just...I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up."

"Jane…"

"Anyway, that's when I went into the mental institution," he continued tiredly. "Meeting Sophie…helped. And I never tried it again."

"You never wanted to…hurt yourself after that?" she asked softly, as if afraid of the answer.

"I never tried," he corrected quietly. "There were times though, especially in the first few weeks out of the hospital, that I wanted to…" He cleared his throat. "But I just reminded myself of what I had to do, and that kept me going."

"Revenge?" she asked. "Revenge kept you alive?"

"In the early days," he told her quietly. "But then I met you. You and the team…eventually you gave me another reason to keep going. Another reason to make me want to…live. I'll never repay you for that."

"I'm glad," she told him, her voice almost hoarse with emotion as she pulled away from his chest to look him in the eye. "I can't imagine what my life would be like without you."

"Stress-free?" he offered with a small smile that he was glad to see her return. "Quiet?"

"Boring," she countered. "Meaningless."

"Meh, nonsense," he replied, though he hugged her closer and pressed another kiss to her head. "But thank you, my dear."

She sighed into his embrace, and Jane took a moment to memorise every single moment of it. He would never take this for granted again. Not this time…

"I'm tired," he mumbled eventually, breathing into her hair. And he was; the conversation had been even more exhausting than he'd first anticipated.

"Me too," she replied quietly. "Bed?"

"It's 4pm," he pointed out, though he had no intention of fighting her. A mid-afternoon nap sounded nothing short of wonderful.

"So?" she challenged, pulling herself away from him as she began to get up. "We have the rest of the week off. We're allowed to be lazy."

Lisbon held out a hand to him and he took it gratefully as he allowed her to help him tiredly get up off the couch. Even when he was finally on his feet though, he didn't let go of her reassuring grip, and neither did she.

"Come on then, my dear," he said softly, pulling her gently towards the stairs. "Nap-time awaits. And I think we've earned it."

More than earned it, he couldn't help but think.

"I have more to tell you, you know," she told him, almost as a warning, as they began to make their way up the stairs.

He felt a flicker of fear, but pushed it away as best he could. "So do I. But it can wait. We don't have to do it all at once, remember. I'll be here, whenever you want to talk. But not now, okay."

"Okay," she mumbled.

Once they entered the bedroom, they both lay on the bed, fully dressed and on top of the covers. He immediately opened up his body though, and she snuggled back into his side as if she had never left.

He'd missed this, he realised. That feeling of having someone _be there_. Jane had never thought he would ever have this again, but here he was, being proven wrong yet again. Lisbon might not have been able to save her father, but she had definitely saved him…

He sighed as he allowed his mind to wander back to their earlier conversation. They had both reacted very differently to their equally bad circumstances, that much was clear. Like the coward he was, instead of facing up to the problem and standing up for himself, he had allowed himself to be taken into foster care without a fight, only to end up crawling back to the carnival less than a year later. And in the years that had followed that - as he'd moved on with his life - instead of dealing with his past, Jane had forced his mind away any thoughts of his childhood and his father, barely ever dwelling on it.

Instead, whenever he thought of his childhood now, he focused on the few good memories he had from that time in his life. Anything to do with his father, he had long ruthlessly ignored. It was actually one of the reasons he avoided physical conflict so much now, although Lisbon and the team weren't to know that. They thought it was simply because he was a civilian, unused to violence, but that wasn't quite true. No, violence always reminded him of things he'd always tried so hard to forget.

But Lisbon...when she had been faced with bad circumstances, she had met the problem head on. Glancing at down at her now, already half-asleep as she snuggled further into his chest, Jane knew that she had probably never even have considered running away, no matter how bad it had gotten for her. She'd just taken the burden on her shoulders and carried on, and she was a better person for it. Jane found himself slightly envious of her, though he quickly pushed that feeling away, knowing that it would do little good. Instead, he focused on the future that, until recently, he'd never thought he would have.

Lisbon had buried her demons long ago, but he couldn't help but hope that she would help him to bury his too.

"I love you," he mumbled as he snuggled her closer to him, arms wrapped comfortingly around her small, lithe body.

"Love you, too," she murmured back, and Jane smiled, because in that moment, despite all the things that were still left to talk about, that was all he really needed to know.

* * *

**A/N – **So, what did you think? I realise that there was a lot of introspection here, but this is the first time in this story that we're seeing things from Jane's point of view, and I wanted to explore his thoughts a little bit. I hope that it wasn't too much, and that the dialogue at the end made up for it. As you can probably already tell, we're nowhere near done yet, so if there's something you think this story is missing (either in character backstory or in actual plot) please let me know, because there will be plenty of chances to add it in. Until next time though, thanks for reading!


	5. Part Five

**Disclaimer -** The Mentalist belongs to Bruno Heller and CBS. Not me. Obviously.

**A/N – **Hello again! Thank you for all the reviews after the last instalment, and sorry for the slight delay in getting this chapter out. I'll be honest...this is not one of my best.I found it really hard to get in Jane's head for some reason, and I'm still not entirely sure I got his "voice" right. After lots of chopping and changing, this is about the best I make it, so I hope it's okay. Enjoy!

* * *

**~ Second Chances ~**

**Part Five**

* * *

When the sun began to set in the sky outside Lisbon's bedroom window and the room began to darken quite dramatically, Jane knew that it was probably time to get up. Lisbon was still slumbering in his arms though, naked and still sweaty from their latest round of lovemaking, and he also knew that it would take a stronger man than him to pull away from her.

"So, Lisbon," Jane began instead, pulling her even closer to his chest. "How old were you when you had your first kiss?"

She didn't even twitch at the question, clearly almost asleep again, so Jane pressed his lips to Lisbon's bare shoulder as he traced a finger languidly down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Their unplanned afternoon nap had lasted forty wonderful minutes, and the lovemaking that had followed had lasted well over an hour. As a result of the latter – and despite the former - they were now both struggling to find the energy to get up to make dinner. Particularly Lisbon…

"Hmm?" she mumbled, waking up a little more as he kissed her shoulder again.

"First kiss, Lisbon," he repeated. "How old were you?"

"You're asking me that now?" Lisbon murmured finally, as she shifted against his chest. She pulled away slightly, just enough to glare at him for waking her up, but she didn't pull away completely, and for that he was grateful.

"Why not?" Jane replied with a grin, ignoring her glare as always. "Anyway, you're the one who wanted to know everything."

She grunted in that adorably cute way of hers, and Jane suppressed another grin at the familiar sound. He recognised that particular grunt as the one that usually meant she knew he was right, but would never admit it in a million years. It was quite possibly one of his favourite grunts in the world…

"That's not what I meant," she replied with a mumble, settling back against his chest.

He pressed another kiss to her head this time as he pulled her closer. "Aren't you interested to know?"

"About your first kiss?" she muttered sleepily. "Not really."

"Not just my first kiss," Jane told her, his voice soft and melodic. "My first…everythings."

"You just want to know about _my_ first everythings," she said knowingly, finally pulling herself up properly, apparently resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to let this go anytime soon.

Jane shrugged unrepentantly. "Guilty as charged. You fascinate me, Teresa, and I'm not going to apologise for that. I want to know everything about all your everythings."

Her frown melted away at that, and she smiled slightly, though he got the distinct impression that she was trying not to give in quite so easily. She folded her arms with an air of resignation as if she had read his mind, but thankfully he knew it was an act. A good one, he would give her that, but an act nonetheless. He hadn't missed the spark of burning curiosity in her eyes when he'd first brought up this aspect of their respective pasts, and he knew she was as intrigued as he was to discover more. He couldn't help but think that maybe this would do them some good as well. He knew that they still needed to talk about the subjects that they had both buried for far too long, but they needed this as well, he realised; they both needed a break from the darker sides of life…

"So," she began with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, "Who was the great Patrick Jane's first kiss?"

"Clarissa Scott," Jane replied proudly. "Fourth grade."

"Ah, so you did go to school," Lisbon noted, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.

"I never said I didn't," he replied with a roll of his eyes. "I just never saw the point in going to high school. Anyway, stop trying to change the subject. Come on, out with it woman."

"Fine," she replied. "If you must know, it was Thomas Kent."

"In…"

She sighed. "Second grade."

"An early starter," Jane noted. "Excellent."

"Shut up," she muttered. "He stole my milk, and he wouldn't give it me back…so I kissed him."

"Perfect logic," Jane replied with a teasing grin. She scowled half-heartedly at him, although his smile didn't falter, and eventually her scowl turned into a smile as well.

"I was a kid," she replied, as if trying to justify her actions. "Anyway it worked."

"I'll remember that," he murmured.

"Don't get any ideas," Lisbon warned him, as if she had known he was already formulating a plan to steal her morning coffee. "I've learnt a lot since then. Mainly how to punch annoying thieves in the nose instead of kissing them."

"Noted," Jane replied, scrunching his nose slightly. He knew it was still bright red, and despite the hours that had passed since he'd been punched by that old lady, it was also still quite sore.

"Anyway," she continued, leaning over his chest. "You don't have to trick me into kissing you anymore."

"Oh, I know," he replied, and to make the point, he leaned forward until his lips brushed against hers. It was the faintest of touches, barely even enough to be described as a kiss at all, and yet he could tell it was enough to send electricity from the top of her head to the ends of her toes.

"Good," she mumbled as he pulled away, and he bit back a grin, not wanting to seem _too _pleased with himself.

Instead, he lay back against the headboard and Lisbon immediately settled back into his arms. As she sighed against his chest, Jane felt a rush of utter happiness that almost took his breath away. He'd forgotten this; he'd truly forgotten, what it felt like to be happy…

"I've missed this," Jane murmured, almost without thinking, still caught up in the warm fuzzy feeling that was rising in his chest. Lisbon stilled in his arms almost as soon as the words left his mouth though, which sent a warning signal to his brain. Despite being a little slow on the uptake, it didn't take Jane long to realise his mistake.

When Lisbon has asked him to speak about his past, he was almost sure she had been thinking about his childhood, or about his past as a fake psychic, not Angela and Charlotte. He himself was still adjusting to being with someone other than his wife, so it was no surprise that Lisbon was uncomfortable bringing up the subject of his family. They would have to talk about it at some point though, because he owed it to Lisbon to make sure she knew that as far as he was concerned, she would never be second best…

"This?" she asked cautiously interrupting his wild thoughts. He sighed slightly, but found yet again that he couldn't deny her the answers she was seeking.

"Having someone to just…be with," Jane told her quietly.

"Be with?" she asked, eyebrows raised suggestively. She was giving him an out, he realised. She was giving him the opportunity to turn his off-hand comment into a joke. He loved her for it, but for once, he wasn't going to take her up on her offer. He owed her honesty, if nothing else…

"I didn't mean it like that," Jane replied, before smiling slightly. "Well, I did a little bit, but not entirely. What I meant was…I've missed having someone to come home to, to kiss in the mornings and say goodnight to in the evenings. I had all that with Angela…and I've missed it. Despite the fact that I know I don't deserve it, I've missed having someone who cares if I live or die."

"I've always cared, Jane," she told him, her voice a little bit shaky.

"I know," he replied, smiling slightly even despite the sombre tone of the conversation. "But you have to admit, it's different now."

"Yeah, I guess it is," she replied with a smile. "A good different though, don't you think?"

He nodded. "A very good different." Then he sighed deeply, breathing in her scent. "I'm so glad you stayed."

"And I'm glad you jumped over a fence and chased down a plane to convince me to stay," she told him.

"That makes it sound much more heroic than it was," he replied, eyebrows furrowed slightly when he thought back to that moment.

"Things like that always sound much more heroic than they are," she replied. "But if it makes you feel any better, the lady who was sat next to me thought you were very heroic…"

"At least someone appreciates me," he noted, mock-mournfully. She snorted in reply, and he smiled widely.

"I think it's safe to say that I appreciate you as well, Jane," she replied, unmoved by his act, but smiling anyway.

"That's true," Jane replied, his words immediately taking a suggestive tint. "In fact, I do have a few talents that you seem to appreciate very much."

He was pleased to see her blush slightly, though he knew she was anything but prudish. Jane loved the playful nature of their relationship, the way they had managed to incorporate their normal banter seamlessly into the new version of their partnership. Jane leaned down to kiss her, deepening it just enough to darken the blush on her cheeks even more.

"Speaking of my many amazing talents," he whispered as he pulled away, grinning widely at her somewhat shell-shocked appearance. "Dinner?"

* * *

He cooked like he did everything else; with absolute confidence in his abilities.

Not everyone would agree of course, although not everyone agreed with how he did everything else either. Jane watched as Lisbon took a slow bite, closing her eyes as she savoured the perfectly cooked steak, and it pleased him more than he would ever admit aloud to see her enjoy something he had produced. Jane knew that up until recently, despite their many years together, he had done very little to bring genuine joy into her life, but now that they were together for real, he wanted to do his very best to make up for lost time…

"So, where did you learn to cook?" she asked, pausing before she took another bite. "I can't imagine there were that many people at the carnival who could have taught you."

"You'd be surprised," he replied with a grin, before taking his own bite. "Carnies are an eclectic group of people."

She was practically oozing curiosity, and it made him smile. "So who taught you?"

"Gertrude," he replied. "Pete's first wife. She was a big lady, and she certainly knew her food. She taught me everything I know about cooking."

"She taught you well," Lisbon told him.

"I'm a quick learner," he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically.

"And so modest as well," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I know," he replied, playing along. "Just another of my many talents, I suppose. How did you get to be so lucky?"

Jane grinned widely at her, but was surprised when her smile faltered.

His own smile dropped immediately, and he felt the air stop in his chest at the sight, certain he'd already screwed up somehow. When she met his eyes though, with a look so forceful and powerful that he wouldn't have been able to pull his gaze away for anything, Jane felt his breath stop for an entirely different reason. It struck him in that moment just how dependent he was on her. One misplaced word, one doubt voiced, and it would break him. She held the power, and it should have terrified him, but he knew that if there was anyone who he could trust with his heart, it was Lisbon.

"I don't know, Jane," she replied quietly, her eyes fixed on his. She smiled at him, and though it was small and tentative at first, he felt relief rush through him at the sight. "But I _am _lucky. And don't think for one moment that I don't know it. I wouldn't trade this for anything, I really wouldn't, because even though I know things won't always be perfect; that you'll still annoy me, and that we'll still argue like always, I know, more certainly than I've ever known anything, that there's nowhere I'd rather be, and no one I'd rather be with."

"Not even Thomas Kent?" he joked, trying to cover up his shaky voice.

"Nah," she replied. "You're a better kisser."

"Better than a seven year old," he huffed, though his heart was still fluttering in his chest. "High praise indeed. With the bruising my ego takes in your company, it's a good job I love you so much."

She smiled at him. "Someone's got to keep that ego in check. And, Jane?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Love you too."

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**A/N - **This was actually supposed to be a fluffy chapter, but it just goes to show you where my head is at the moment. I know it wasn't the most flowing chapter in the world, but hopefully you liked it anyway. Let me know what you thought, and until next time, thanks for reading!


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